Attempt 543: Never Fall in Love With Eleanor Shellstrop
by MegaChoirQueer
Summary: In reboot #543, Michael tries a new method of torturing Eleanor; telling her that he, the creator of the Good Place neighborhood, is her soulmate. But will what started out as an inventive way to get back at his biggest rival turn into something greater than he could have predicted?
1. Chapter 1

"Hi, Eleanor. C'mon in."

This reboot had started like so many others with Eleanor Shellstrop sitting on the sofa, wearing one of her classic striped sweaters, and opening her eyes to the bright green words: "Welcome! Everything is fine!"

But after 500+ attempts, Michael realized he had to adjust the story a little bit.

Obviously, pairing Eleanor with Chidi too soon would lead to them discovering they were in fact in the Bad Place. And even though it was starting to become rather predictable, sometimes even comical, Michael decided he needed to try something completely different if he actually wanted to be a success.

Part of him wondered if "succeeding" was the real reason behind giving this new project a shot, or if that was just the story he told himself. If he were to be honest with himself, some of it was sheer curiosity. Even in the silliest reboots, he would usually learn something new about what worked and what didn't, and he had himself a few good laughs. Even if this attempt were to fail, he could just see what happens. Nothing he couldn't chalk up to just one of 500+ reboots.

"Well, how are you doing?" Michael asked politely.

"Good, good," Eleanor answered. "Just one quick question: Who are you and where am I?"

"Ah yes. These are typical questions. Well, there's no easy way to say this… but you are dead. Your life on Earth has ended and you have moved on into the afterlife." Michael delivered this speech so many times he could say it in his sleep… not that he needed to sleep, but there were a few occasions where he tried it out. Only about 30 reboots ago, actually, is the most recent time he attempted to sleep. He had what the humans referred to as a "dream" – something his kind was not familiar with on a personal level. Then again, he was always a little bit different from the rest of the demonic beings. That dream had inspired this new idea, although he wouldn't dare tell a soul about it, not even Janet. At first, he dismissed it as nonsense, but after mulling over it during 30 or so reboots, he finally figured it was time to give it a whirl and wrote up a whole new storyline.

"Oh. Cool. So like… who was right? Like what's going on here? Is this… ya know?" Eleanor began to gesture towards the ceiling and then to the floor, attempting to figure out her place in the afterlife, like she had done hundreds of times before.

"Oh, Eleanor," the demon answered, "there's a lot more to the afterlife than what you were taught on Earth, but overall, there is a good place and a bad place."

Michael tried to enjoy to the look of utter anticipation that always came upon the girl's face before finishing his remark. Nearly every time, her eyes would widen a little and her posture would straighten, a mixture of fear and curiosity painted across her.

"You, of course, are in the Good Place!" As good as he was with lies, there were times he struggled to keep his composure when he said that first lie. There was one occasion, attempt #177, where he _did_ in fact laugh as he said it, and Eleanor called him out on it, like the snarky bench he thought she was.

He witnessed her exhale a sigh of relief and trade her anxious expression for a relaxed smile. Even though he was supposed to enjoy her looks of fear, and he did, he couldn't help but adore the real, genuine smiles she had from time to time.

"Is there anything else I can answer for you, Eleanor?"

"Well, who are you? Are you like… ya know… God? Or some sort of angel?"

"Aw I'm flattered," he said with a little blush on his cheeks. He had trained himself to blush on command just for this experiment. "I guess I should have introduced myself. I'm Michael. I'm not God, not even close. Again, this isn't the usual Christian heaven-or-hell idea you're used to. I'm not exactly an angel, but I am an immortal, highly intelligent ethereal being. I am an architect, and I designed every part of the neighborhood you and 323 other humans will spend the rest of your eternities in."

"Nice… so what's next?" Eleanor asked eagerly.

"Well, there is something I should tell you before I give you a tour of our neighborhood… oh I'm not sure I should tell you just yet…" Michael made sure to use that fake insecurity as one of his biggest manipulation tactics with Eleanor, like in the first reboot, when he pretended to have a panic attack over the failing neighborhood. It always made her feel bad, and forced her to act kind towards him, causing her to suffer a little bit more.

"Tell me what?"

"Well," he started. This was the big speech he'd been rehearsing in the mirror for hours. He knew this time was the time, and he was ready to deliver.

"See, our algorithms and calculations are without fail here. They're created and regulated by thousands of celestial beings who operate far above my level. Every measurement of theirs is precise and accurate, without fail, and we take these things very seriously. And no matter how odd the calculations may seem, there's no doubting them. This goes for everything, from determining which place you go to, to the style of the home you'll live in, to the type of people you'll be spending time with here… and that includes soul mates. But I'm not sure how you're going to feel about this…"

Eleanor seemed dumbfounded until her anger announced itself. "Is it that stupid ex boyfriend I had, Jake? Because he was HOT, like FORKING HOT, but I don't think… Hey, how come I can't say 'fork'?"

Even though Michael knew about all of Eleanor's life, including every ex she's ever had, it was tempting to hear her complaining yet again. But he forced himself to get the point across with a deadpan expression in his face.

"Eleanor, our system says that… I'm your soulmate."


	2. Chapter 2

On the way to her odd and colorful house that Eleanor palpably despised every time, Michael made extra sure not to initiate any conversation and leave the space as awkward for her as possible.

For a while, it was working. They both avoided eye contact and kept quite a distance from each other. Michael tried to keep the walk slow, but Eleanor would walk hastily in a direction she wasn't sure of. It was even a bit awkward for _him_, just walking in complete silence after delivering such a risky scenario onto his favorite guinea pig.

Yet, he should have known better than to expect Eleanor to keep quiet. She interjected halfway through their journey, "So… don't take this the wrong way. You've definitely got a dapper authoritarian vibe going on and I'm not _not_ into it, but why would you be soul mates with a human? Do you even have a soul?"

Michael was slightly taken aback by her round-about compliment. He knew that she was generally attracted to authority figures and that telling her she was meant to be with the "boss" of the neighborhood would stir up a great deal of confusion and self-defeating behaviors, yet he didn't expect her to be so blunt about what she found attractive about him.

"Well I don't have a soul, per se. I do, however, have an essence. A life energy, if you will, that holds my memories, consciousness, ideas, and so on. It's not too different from a human soul in terms of its function. It just has some mechanical differences," he elaborated.

"And how did they manage to place us together? What's the special formula?" She laughed with a casual roll of her eyes. He could feel her skepticism leak through her chuckles, so he knew he had to give a satisfying answer.

"A combination of things, really. Interests, values, similarities, and complimentary attributes. Everything from your favorite musician to whether you pour the milk or the cereal first factors into creating a perfect match. All of those things tell who in a neighborhood would be truly happiest together." With her home in front of them now, he put a hand on her shoulder and looked into her sapphire eyes, "But regardless of how the accountants determined this, it is an honor to be paired with someone as incredible as you."

He exhaled before getting to his favorite part – the real torture-starter. With an illuminating grin and a sigh of serenity, he continued, "Eleanor Shellstrop - a human rights lawyer who saved hundreds of innocent people from death row… One of the most selfless people I've ever seen a record of… However strange the algorithm is, I'm delighted that I've been chosen to get to know you for all eternity."

Ah yes. This was the moment. Eleanor was clearly trying her best to maintain her composure, but he had been through this conversation so many times that he could predict every small crease on her face that would shift when he would announce that she was supposedly some sort of incredible person on earth. He noticed how her pupils would change in size and how her pores would get just a tad bit larger, to make her sweat. He could see her fear sink into her bones and he felt invigorated. Even after every failure, these moments gave him the illusion that he was winning in their little rivalry that only he knew about.

She looked at the ground as to avoid to any sort of eye contact, but Michael couldn't look away from her. He sought to savor every second of this reboot – whether it lasted 10 minutes or 10 years.

However, if he just stood there in silence, it would be too suspicious. He chose to break the tension and speak, "Here we are! Home sweet home! Well, your home, at least."

He looked over at her disappointed face, eyebrows raised to the top of her head in shock. Quickly afterward, she shifted her look into a fake expression of excitement. Of course, Michael knew she was lying, but he loved to see her try. There were times her lies were so convincing, and even when he knew the obvious truth about the situation, part of himself was tempted to believe her.

He took her through a tour of the home, explaining how each clown painting in her home was a replication from her collection on earth, and how the Icelandic Primitive styled home was tailored just for her. "I know you loved these so much. Tell me, which one of these paintings is your favorite, Eleanor?" he asked with his devilish grin, seeking to illicit some sort of reaction from the human girl.

"Oh, you know, how could I choose just one!?" Eleanor responded in that tangibly fake over-eager tone she used when confronted with the need to lie about her happiness. "I just love them all so much! That's me! World's biggest.. uh… clown lover!" She expanded her arms and forced herself to grin, trying to fool Michael.

With Chidi, Tahani, and Jason, seeing their anxieties play out in front of them time and time again got a bit repetitive and even frustrating. But something about the convoluted and dramatic ways Eleanor attempted to avoid getting caught were comical and charming in each reboot. Seeing as she was the one who ruined the experiment nearly every time (except for the one time Jason figured it out… that one was a real bummer), he had built up some level of rivalry against her, and as much as it vexed him, it also gave him a sense of invigoration he'd never felt torturing any other human. It was a complex puzzle that he would get so close to solving until something came along and undid it, but even when he had to start from scratch again, it made him all the more determined.

Michael gave a dramatic sigh and said, "Well, I suppose I should let you become acquainted with your new home and all. I have a few more residents to greet, and I don't want it to seem like there is any favoritism happening here…" He paused and continued with a confused expression, "Unless you want me to stay longer? I want to make sure you're as happy as you can be."

Eleanor looked completely dumbfounded. After a few moments, she managed to reply, "Yeah, man. Do what you gotta do! I mean, we have all of eternity to get to know each other, right? No rush, my guy."

"Oh, thank you for understanding, Eleanor. I recognize '_this_'," he gestured, motioning his hand between himself and the human woman, "is an odd and unexpected situation. To be honest with you, I'm not quite sure what to do next. This type of relationship isn't typically part of an architect's existence, but I trust that we can figure it out together."

In that moment, he felt an odd sense of comfort and relief that he did not anticipate. The soothing feeling arose almost as if he meant the words he spoke. Well, he wasn't technically lying. He mapped out what this "story" would be like, but Eleanor has always proven to be unpredictable. He had developed his persona enough to make good improvisational judgements about his relationships with the four humans, and he had prepared some go-to answers for questions he believed Eleanor would ask in this new type of relational torture. Yet, he didn't know what was going to come next. He wasn't sure how to keep up pretending to be Eleanor's soulmate and how long Eleanor would believe it until she realized it was a sham. This was not a typical situation for an architect to be in – Good Place or Bad Place.

Demons didn't have a moral code that forbade them from torturing humans by using their relationships against them. However, in Michael's opinion, most demons were not bright enough to understand the complexity involved in human relationships. They saw brute force as the cruelest form of punishment. However, Michael knew the most painful experiences for humans were those of guilt, humiliation, and betrayal. No amount of butt spiders or lava monsters could harm someone as much as they themselves feeling alone and ashamed. This knowledge was what prompted the idea for the original experiment: humans set up to torture themselves psychologically.

Thankfully, Michael had observed Eleanor's every insecurity for a couple hundred years now. He knew what made her annoyed, what made her aroused, and what made her ashamed.

And even still, in his mission to torture her, he couldn't help but feel alleviated by confessing to her that _he didn't know what he was doing_.

Looking at Eleanor, he realized her eyes were looking towards the floor, probably in guilt and fear. Even after studying human facial expressions for thousands and thousands of years, there were still moments when he couldn't be sure of all the nuances. Some emotions looked so much alike, especially when they're trying to be repressed.

Eleanor exhaled and said, "Yeah. We'll figure it out dude. Don't sweat it."

Michael smiled genuinely, even though the woman before him had no idea what was truly going on. Though, he remembered what he had to do next.

He placed his hand on her shoulder and looked intently into her eyes once more, "I just want you to know you can trust me with anything, Eleanor."

She audibly swallowed her own spit and blushed, looking down at the ground again. She quickly looked back up, though, and answered him with a half-grin, "Thank you, Michael."

"I suppose I should get going then. Please come by the orientation meeting in a few hours, though! The video will explain a lot more of this afterlife stuff. In the meantime, if you need anything, you can ask Janet."

"Janet?" Eleanor asked curiously.

"Janet!" Michael called.

Right next to him, Janet appeared. "Hello!"

Eleanor shuffled back in her shock. "Uh.. hi?"

Michael explained, "Janet is a virtual informational database of pretty much everything. She can answer any question you may have and can supply you with anything you need."

"Oh, cool," Eleanor said, with an actual smile on her face, her eyes open with curiosity and anticipation.

"Alright then, I must go," Michael said, awkwardly shuffling out of the door. "See you later alligator!" he shouted back to her.

"Yeah… later!"

She shut the door and that concluded Michael's first scene to torture Eleanor in this new reboot. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about it, after realizing how absurd it sounded. There was no way she would believe it for more than a week, he thought. _A month at _best.

Yet, he reminded himself that he learned something new about the humans in every reboot, and even if it was a catastrophic failure, he was sure to find out something new. And who knew? Maybe he'd get a good laugh out of it too.


	3. Chapter 3

Eleanor shut the door behind her in such haste, as if to separate herself from the craziness that just unfolded in front of her.

In the span of an hour, she'd learned that she was

a.) dead

b.) in heaven

c.) in heaven, BY ACCIDENT

d.) stuck in a weird clown house

and

e.) supposed to be soulmates with freaking GOD.

Okay, maybe he wasn't _God_, but close enough. An angel, perhaps? Whatever he was, he was not a human. And she was supposed to be his _soulmate_.

But to top it off, she had no one to tell how lost she felt here in the Good Place. She had no one to confess to, because the one person who she's supposed to trust, is the forking boss!

"Fork! Fork! Fork!" she exclaimed to herself, pacing in a line. "Why the fork can't I even say fork? What kind of bullshirt is this? Gahh!"

She was supposed to be in paradise and yet she wanted to do nothing more than curl in a ball and cry. Her house was some sort of hipster nightmare, adorned with disturbing images of clowns in every corner of her vision. But even worse, she was completely and utterly alone, even in heaven.

Wait – the robot lady! What was her name? "Jay-Z! Janis Joplin! Robot lady c'mon!" No one appeared before her. She should really start paying attention to what people say to her now that her whole life – err, afterlife – is about to be a lie.

Completely unsure of what to do next, she did one of the things she was best at: turning on the tv and plopping on the couch. Once she did, a "welcome" channel appeared and reminded the viewers of…

"Janet!"

_*Bing*_

"Hello, I'm Janet!"

"Janet, you know like… everything, right?" Eleanor inquired.

"Yes I do!" Janet responded in a cheery tone.

Eleanor wanted to be smart about this. She had no idea who could listen in on her, especially since her soulmate created this entire world. She wanted to make sure anything that she could say to Janet wouldn't automatically incriminate her. Asking the wrong question could get her into a lot of trouble, right from the start.

"Is Michael like… is he omnipotent? Does he know like everything that happens?"

Janet answered, "No, Michael is not omnipotent. While he has complete knowledge of your life on earth, he is not able to access your current thoughts or feelings."

"And with you… can anyone access my search history or is this like an incognito mode thing?" Eleanor needed to make sure she was careful with what she said until she knew it was safe to be herself again.

"Anything you ask of me is completely confidential and not even Michael has access to our conversations. Now, what pornography would you like to see?"

"Porn? What no… well, remind me later about that. But I need to know – does this system really say I am soulmates with Michael?"

Eleanor was fearful to know the answer. If it didn't, then either this is a sick joke or someone royally messed up and Michael is going to figure it out sooner or later. Yet if the system was right, then the only problem is her. They have her entire life wrong. A human rights lawyer? The only time she advocated for human rights was when she defended her _human right_ to have access to food and trashy magazines by stealing from the supermarket.

Janet replied near instantly, "According to the documents I have on file for this neighborhood's design, there is one that mentions your name, Eleanor Shellstrop, and Michael being soul mates. Any other information is confidential, according to policy."

That could mean a lot of things. Maybe they have the wrong Eleanor Shellstrop? But who else would even have that name?

She started to worry about what would happen if she got caught as not being a "good person". She asked, "Janet – if there is a Good Place, does that mean there is a Bad Place?" Michael had told her there was, but she needed to hear it again.

"Yes, there is a Bad Place," she promptly answered.

Her heart sank. Of course she knew what answer to expect. Why would Michael be lying about that? She had just secretly hoped it'd been a joke of sorts, even though every logical part of her mind knew that wasn't the case.

"What's it like?" she asked. Perhaps the Bad Place wasn't so bad, right? Maybe it's just a place where you're forced to watch the same 10 reruns of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. or eat unseasoned tacos without onion and cilantro. She could live with that.

"Ooh, again. That is one of the few things I am forbidden to share with you. The only thing I am allowed to do is play a brief audio clip of what is currently happening there right now." She waved her index finger and all of a sudden, Eleanor's ears were flooded with shrieks of horror, chainsaws grinding, knives cutting, lightning striking and cries for help.

_Not good_.

Even if this soulmate situation with the architect was confusing, at least it wasn't whatever those noises were. There was something to feel good about.

She would just have to pretend to be soulmates with him until she figured out a better plan. After all, that was a classic Shellstrop move: pretending to be in love with a man so you get what you want until something better comes along. This was second nature to her by now.

Besides, Michael was actually not bad looking, and that dapper suit did favors for him. Even in his aging appearance, she found herself oddly attracted to him; Eleanor always had a soft spot for the Silver Fox type.

She was just worried because unlike the Arizona dirtbags she was used to wooing, this was some immortal powerful being who designs entire lands in the afterlife. Even if he wasn't omnipotent, he knew a lot and had access to a lot of information. And as an angelic type of being, she imagined that he would have a high ethical and moral code to follow. He's likely required to be honest about any and all errors he comes across. She didn't know that for sure, but that's what all the goody-two-shoes snitches did at every job she'd ever had. And this wasn't just selling fake medicine to old people. He was working for forking heaven! _Ugh ethical codes are the worst_, she thought to herself.

She'd not only have to seduce him; she'd have to _act good_. That was far more challenging than wearing a flattering top and giving out fake compliments.

However, even in the midst of her worries, she chose to push away the problem and go see what this orientation business was about. Maybe it'd help her figure out what the fork was really going on.


	4. Chapter 4

Michael showed them the same video they'd seen every time, with minimal tweaks, such as the "feel-good" sponsor. This reboot, the video was "sponsored" by baby kangaroos nestled into their mother's pouch.

During the part of the video where Michael addresses the soulmate proposition, he made sure to take a good look at Eleanor in the audience. Her legs were crossed in her chair and she shifted uncomfortably, looking around to see if anyone else seemed to be with their soulmate already. After noticing that no one had yet, she looked back down at her hands and then back up at the video.

Michael felt accomplished that he made her feel so lost and confused this early into the reboot, but he worried it wouldn't last long. And he knew the demons were skeptical about this approach, especially Vicky.

Even though he couldn't stand her, she did make some reasonable points. By claiming to be Eleanor's soulmate from the get-go, it will likely cause her to doubt the validity of the Good Place. However, if he tried an alternate plan involving this idea where he waited to confess he was her soulmate, it would make her lose all trust in him immediately. That is why he decided to give her the information immediately and let her settle into it.

He wanted the greatest chance at success in this reboot. He didn't want to waste time with things that wouldn't work at tricking the four humans into believing they were really in The Good Place, while still making them feel as miserable as possible. He wanted to make this experiment a successful one, and hopefully impress Shawn enough to earn his senior staff pin.

Still, Vicky had earlier made some preposterous assumptions that were very untrue and impractical that he couldn't quit thinking about.

He remembered the conversation vividly…

* * *

_"So what I'm thinking about is.. wait for it! Telling Eleanor that I'm her soulmate! Eh? What do you think?"_

_ "Ha, really?" Vicky scoffed. "Just how would that work?"_

_ "Okay, get this: Eleanor has a lot of problems with feeling like she doesn't belong. By telling her that I am her soulmate, she has no one to confess to, and will continue to bottle up her stress. I get her to trust me, maybe even develop some of those human feelings, ya know love and all that jazz. She'll feel so confused and discouraged. It'll be great."_

_ "I'm not seeing how that's any more torturous than anything else we've tried."_

_ "Consider not just her anxiety about getting caught – but also her feeling as if no one could ever truly love her. Thinking that everyone else has a real soulmate, but she is stuck with the architect that is more worried about trying to solve the neighborhood problems than spending time with her. She'll feel so jealous of everyone around her. She's going to feel so insignificant! It'll be great!"_

_ "I guess. But why go through all of this? It seems like a lot of extra work." Vicky had asked._

_ "Uh.." Michael didn't have a clear answer. Part of it was because he realized he needed to try something new. Setting her up with any of the other humans caused her to make the revelation about it being the Bad Place too soon and most of the other demons weren't as skilled in emotional manipulation as he was. They'd rather pull out toenails and smash noses with sledgehammers than play with people's feelings. Another part was simply for the fun of it. Michael was amused with Eleanor, and how she reacted to new situations. He wanted to see how she would react to this, he just couldn't figure out why that mattered so much to him._

_ "Oh, I see why."_

_ "See? Yeah," Michael answered, not really knowing what made Vicky change her mind. Perhaps she would give him a good reason that he could latch onto, seeing as he didn't quite have the language to explain why he wanted to try this so badly._

_ "Yeah - you want to bone Eleanor," she responded nonchalantly._

_ Michael coughed in surprise. "What?"_

_ "You have a thing for Eleanor. We get it."_

_ "What? Ha! No way. She's such a gross _human_. No that's not… that's not what this is about."_

_ "Look, I don't really care. If you wanna have at her, go for it. Kiss her, fuck her, tell her you love her, whatever. Just give me a better role this time. Ooh, can I be Chidi's soulmate? I'm thinking of being this French poet that's really bad, but he won't have the heart to tell her that her poems are bad and it'll eat him alive. I've got a whole backstory and everything."_

* * *

Michael shuttered at the memory. Obviously, Vicky was very out-of-line for saying such a crazy thing. That could _never_ be the case.

He was a _professional_. Even hell spawn had some level of self-respect to not create any conflicts of interest. Fraternizing with the victims was always looked down upon by Bad Place employees, for there was no room for empathy or guilt towards causing the subjects any suffering. Besides, Michael was a powerful 6000-ft tall fire squid at the heart of it all. What would cause him to become interested in a _human being_?

Then again, as he looked out into the crowd of faces, he couldn't lie and say that Eleanor's didn't catch his eye every time. Something about the way her posture was both charismatic and vulnerable ignited him with an indescribable passion. But surely it was the passion of seeing her miserable, yes? Seeing his newest arch nemesis all flustered and confused was enjoyable solely for knowing that he was making her feel bad, and not because of the way her cheeks blushed when she was trying to hide something.

No. He wanted nothing more than to break her heart over and over and over again, not mend it. He was a _demon_, after all.

At least that was what he told himself as he gazed out at her wide, curious eyes and beautiful blonde hair swaying lightly in the calm breeze.

Yeah, this was about the torture _for sure._


End file.
